The Secret They Share
by InEternalDarkness
Summary: Draco Malfoy, a stereotypical Slytherin-arrogant, selfish, snobbish... No one would guess what goes on under that blonde hair, and one day, one particular Gryffindor finds out. M/M slash, Drarry, rated M for future chapters. Don't like, don't read.
1. Prologue: The Room

**A/N: Hi guys! I know I have two unfinished fanfics going on right now, but this one right here is for a contest on Facebook and I think you'll really like it. I know I do. ;) Chapter 1 coming soon!**

**Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy, and anything from the series (c) J.K. Rowling. I own the story plot for this particular fanfiction, and nothing more... sadly. **

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><p>Draco Malfoy was running. He always found himself running in his dreams, but he always forced himself to wake up before the really bad parts started. He'd learned to do it after the first couple times; no need for questions from the Slytherins who shared his dormitory. No need for anyone to find out there were darker things going on at the Malfoy Manor than things involving magic.<p>

But when it came to the point where he wasn't sleeping at all, which started in his fifth year, he started looking for an escape, somewhere he could sleep and not have to worry about how he looked while he suffered through the nightmares—which, in hindsight, never really gave him that much more rest, but at the time, he wasn't thinking clearly at all. He was only looking to hide... and that was when he found the Room of Hidden Things.

At first, he simply found some blankets for himself, and a pillow, and slept like that inbetween study times, classes, Quidditch practice and everything else that kept him away from the Room. It took a while for Crabbe and Goyle to start asking questions about where he was going, and even then, Draco simply changed the subject and distracted them—which, in all honesty, wasn't all that difficult. Inside the room itself, Draco eventually dug out a cavern from one of the mountains of miscellaneous things, and created a bedroom of sorts for when he wanted to be alone. The Room began producing a sleeping potion for him, and for once, he was finally able to sleep dreamlessly.

He'd never factored in the possibility that someone would find out about his hiding place... but he would remember the day well when _he_ discovered his secret.


	2. 1: Last Nerve

**A/N: FINALLY I GOT THIS TYPED UP. Seriously, you wouldn't believe the trouble I've had with this. Dx Anyway, enjoy the chapter, and watch out for mild language. **

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><p>Harry Potter stroked the feathers on Hedwig's chest, smiling at her while he tied his letter to Sirius to her leg. He was still worried about sending her out, especially after she got attacked the first time, but he wanted to ask Sirius how he was doing and update him on what was goin on in Dumbledore's Army. Hedwig nipped affectionately at his fingers before taking off. Harry watched, making sure that she got out safely, relaxing when she was out of sight as he turned to leave the Owlery.<p>

Just as he made it to the archway leading to the stairs, a certain blond-haired Slytherin appeared in his way, looking down at the letter in his hands. They nearly collided, but Draco looked up just in time, giving his trademark pompous smirk. "Potter."

_So much for a good day, _Harry thought to himself as he scowled at Draco. "Malfoy," he sneered, trying to step around him.

But no, of course Draco had to block him from leaving, leaning against the archway. "Who do _you _have a letter to send to, Potter?"

"Your mum," he snapped with a scowl. "Get out of my way."

"How cute, Potter, you can't even come up with a proper comeback."

"I'm not in the mood to deal with you today, Malfoy." Harry would never admit that he was having trouble with his nightmares about Cedric again—let alone the fact that everyone thought he was crazy—especially to Malfoy. "Go mail your letter."

Malfoy smirked. "But it's not that urgent to me at the moment, Potter."

Harry gave him a flat, irritated look as his hand twitched toward his wand, getting the feeling that this could quickly turn into a duel. "Move."

"Oooh, touchy today, aren't we Potter?" Malfoy taunted.

It was the tone, the arrogant smirk that made Harry snap. "I said move!" he shouted, shoving him.

What harry didn't expect was to have Draco shove him back, with enough force to push him against the wall and pin him there, cold grey eyes narrowed. "Don't shove me, Potter," he hissed.

"Or what?" Harry moved to try it again, only to have Malfoy grab his hands and pin them above his head.

"You don't know half the things I could do to you, Potter," he sneered as he looked him over, snorting and tossing him away carelessly, walking off.

"Whatever," Harry muttered as he rubbed his wrists, eyeing Malfoy warily. He shook his head and turned away. Malfoy had let him go. That was all that mattered. But the look the Slytherin had given him... It created a strange feeling in Harry, and he didn't know if he liked it or not. He looked back to make sure Malfoy wasn't following him, pausing at what he saw.

Draco's eagle owl was perched on the Slytherin's shoulder, a letter in his beak. He was hooting softly at his owner, and said owner had an expression on his face that Harry had never seen on _any _Slytherin—almost forlorn, definitely softer than he'd ever witnessed. It seemed like the arrogant pure-blood's guard was dropped for once... and Harry wondered for the first time what someone who seemed like they had everything would have to hide.

He noticed that he looked much younger than usual... and he realized that he'd never really noticed that Draco was normally much more lined than the usual boy their age. The lines were permanent... he wasn't nearly as handsome as he should have been.

All of this made Harry wonder why he was thinking about those kinds of things in the first place, especially when it was _Draco._

Draco's owl took off, and the softened expression stayed on the Slytherin's face while he watched him go. Harry turned to leave, only to slip on an owl dropping and fall against the wall.

He scrambled to his feet quickly while Malfoy turned to look at him, his cold, sneering expression instantly back. "Can't even walk properly, can you Potter?"

Harry brushed himself off. "Who was your letter to? Almost looked like you cared."

"None of your business," Draco snapped, snorting as he brushed past Harry to get to the stairs. Harry hesitated before following him down the stairs, wondering if he was going to get ambushed. He couldn't help but notice, though, that something that looked like the edge of a bruise was poking out from under Draco's collar, or that it looked like he'd hit his head and bled—not recently, but the hair was stained, discolored just enough to notice if someone stared at the spot long enough.

Again, Harry wondered why he was noticing things about Draco. He pretended not to, of course, and cursed silently when Draco made it to the bottom of the stairs and headed off in the exact direction Harry had to go. It was the last thing he wanted to do, but Harry followed him, keeping his hand by his wand as he watched Draco's hand twitching constantly toward his pocket.

As soon as he could, Harry escaped following Draco by way of a side corridor hidden by a tapestry. He didn't have any other classes scheduled for the day, and he didn't want to go back to the Gryffindor Common Room. And Umbridge hadn't made a "No Wandering Hogwarts After Class" rule... yet. Harry figured he might as well make the best of it.

He somehow made his way to the upper levels of the school, barely paying attention to where his feet were taking him. As much as he was trying to avoid it, his mind was on Draco, among other things. Who would Draco have been thinking of when he was sending that letter? And the bruise... the discolored hair... Had the Slytherin finally bitten off more than he could chew? Insulted the wrong guy?

Harry turned a corner and paused. He was on the seventh floor... This was where the Room of Requirement was. And the door was there. And it was open.

Someone was in the Room of Requirement.

Nobody was supposed to know about the Room of Requirement except the DA. They didn't have another meeting until next week. Who could possibly be in there?

Proceeding with caution, Harry drew his wand and moved slowly into the room, looking around. This definitely wasn't the Room of Requirement he knew. This was huge, bigger than the Great Hall, and _full _of miscellaneous objects, mountains of them. Nudging the door closed behind him with his foot—no need in getting snuck up on—he moved warily through the mountains.

He frowned to himself. _Who could be in here? Oh God, if it's Umbridge... no. No, it can't be her. It has to be anyone but her. I'd prefer Malfoy over her! _

After a few minutes of wandering—and refusing to admit to himself that he was lost—he started to think that maybe the room was empty of people. Maybe someone had just left the door open. At least he was still away from the Common Room, his Housemates who were supposed to be his family but didn't hesitate to stare, point, whisper behind his back...

Suddenly, a sharp sound pierced the silence—a scream. A human scream.

All hesitation abandoned, Harry moved in the direction of the scream, wand at the ready. Who was screaming? And what—or who—was causing it. He saw movement and cast a Stunning spell at—what _was _it? It wasn't like any animal he'd ever encountered, even in Hagrid's Care of Magical Creatures class. Luckily, the spell sent the animal scrambling away.

Harry made sure it was gone before he looked over at the person who had been attacked. "Hey, are—"

Malfoy. Draco Malfoy was covered in scratches—and why the _hell _was he shirtless? The Slytherin didn't look up, picking up a bottle of some sort of lotion and applying it to the scratches. Harry could see the pain on Draco's face as he tried to reach his back.

Sorry. He was feeling _sorry _for Draco Malfoy?

"... Need help?" Harry offered reluctantly, grimacing as he looked at the scratches. "They look infected."

"I'm fine," Draco muttered sullenly, turning his back slightly to Harry to treat his side. Harry could see bruises that definitely hadn't been caused by the creature.

"What happened to you, anyway?"

"That thing attacked me?"

"That thing scratched you up. It didn't bruise you."

"Why are you even asking?" Draco eyed him warily. "It's not like you care."

"... Right," Harry muttered with a sigh, eyeing him warily before he turned to go.

Draco sighed. "Wait."

"Yeah?" Harry turned to face him again.

"... Can you get them for me?" Harry could almost see the humiliation on Draco's face, and, surprising himself, he didn't feel any satisfaction at the pitiful look on the boy's face as he offered the bottle of lotion

_Is this some sort of trick?_ "You sure you want me to touch you?"

"Positive." Draco grimaced, eyes averted from Harry's. "They hurt like hell."

Harry nodded, moving forward and taking the lotion. "Got beat up, did you?" he asked as he kneeled down behind him. "Finally sneered at the wrong guy?"

"I'd rather not say," Draco muttered with a sniff.

"Because you don't want anyone to know?"

"Because you wouldn't believe me if I told you the truth."

"After all that I've been through? You really think I wouldn't believe you?"

Draco let out a sharp, bitter laugh that almost sounded like it hurt. "Always the martyr, aren't you Potter?"

"You make it sound like I like this."

"And I suppose you don't. You suffer through it, for the greater good."

"It's either that or _die, _Malfoy." Harry scowled at the back of the Slytherin's head, but he continued being careful about rubbing the lotion in, nearly done. He felt Draco begin to relax, but that didn't help his own being on edge.

"Sometimes..." Draco started, but didn't elaborate, just shaking his head. "Nevermind."

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Uh-huh..." Harry eyed him but didn't push it, getting the last of the bruises. "There you go."

He heard Draco give a sullen "Thanks" as he watched him turn and lay back in the little cave he'd apparently dug out of the mountain.

"Don't menton it..." He frowned, eyeing the dark circles under Draco's closed eyes. _He looks so... vulnerable..._

Snapping himself out of his own confusing thoughts, he shook his head to clear it. "How... do I get out of here?"

"... You don't know?" Draco asked incredulously, opening an eye to look at him. "You're not observant enough to know what to look for?"

"I was looking for you, git," Harry snapped with a scowl. "I lost which turns I took."

"And why the hell were you looking for me?"

"I didn't know it was you."

Draco gave him a flat look. "Turn right out of here, then left. Two more rights, two lefts and you're at the door," he told him, turning his back to Harry and curling up in his makeshift shelter.

Harry eyed him, wondering if the Slytherin had just given him backwards directions... but he didn't have much other choice. "... Thanks," he finally said, moving away, trying to remember all the directions. _Left, right, right, left, left..._

He was surprised and relieved when he came to the door, but before he could open it, it shifted into something like a one-way mirror so he could see into the hall.

_... My luck's just getting better and better..._ Harry thought to himself as he watched Umbridge talking to Filch. Knowing he wasn't going anywhere now, he started to wander again, paying closer attention to the turns he was taking now. _Right, right, left, right, left, left..._

He found Draco's cave again and paused, watching him. Draco was asleep and, by the look of it, he was having a nightmare. He was tangled up in his blankets, fighting against them and muttering, a thin sheen of sweat on his skin. Harry watched him, wondering if he should try and wake him up... He quickly darted out of eyesight as Draco woke up, holding his breath as he heard him curse and hit something. Harry slowly backed away, not wanting another confrontation.

Harry eyed the mountains as he continued to walk, ignoring the footsteps behind him as he practiced a few spells on the objects, but being careful not to disturb the piles. He tried to ignore the eyes boring into his back, and when the tension started to fade, the footsteps going away, he sighed, concentrating on stacking objects as high as he could until the tower fell over. When that happened, he simply cleared the area and rebuilt the pile. He had a strange feeling, though, that the room was shrinking... It definitely wasn't as big as the Great Hall now...

After a while, Harry forgot Draco was even in the room, and he started getting riskier with every pile he built. He smiled as the riskiest pile yet fell, clearing the area once more. He jumped with a start when Draco spoke up behind him.

"Is that _really _necessary?" He sounded irritated.

Harry looked at him, raising an eyebrow. "What? It's not like we're going anywhere anytime soon. Umbridge is out there."

"Yeah, but you could do something other than annoy the hell out of me!"

"Thinking too highly of yourself there, Malfoy."

Draco sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Just... Stop. Okay? Stop it with the noise."

Irritated, because Draco was getting on his last nerve with all this holier-than-thou crap, Harry pointed his wand at a pile, giving the Slytherin a flat look as he made the pile fall over.

He pretty much expected Draco to slam him against the nearest mountain. He expected the glaring, the growling, the angry grey eyes... He would have expected a punch, to the face or stomach, a knee, anything.

What he hadn't expected was the kiss.


	3. 2: The First

**A/N: I'm so sorry this took so long. I've been having some family issues, some personal issues, and that usually leads to muse problems. I hope you enjoy this little delve into poor Draco's mind.**

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><p>Draco hadn't meant to kiss Harry. It was the <em>last<em> thing he wanted to do, reveal that he had any feelings for the other boy—for _any_ boy. Not to mention the fact they were enemies! And the worst kind of enemy as well! And yet... for a moment, Draco let himself enjoy the kiss, his first—well, the first one that mattered. The first one that wasn't a girl that obviously believed he liked her, or something forced, something... something...

He jerked away. No! No, he wasn't supposed to enjoy it! Bad things happened when he enjoyed it! He stumbled backwards, away from Harry, hitting the pile behind him as bile rose in his throat, having nothing to do with Harry or the way he'd tasted or felt but something totally separate yet completely related to the situation at hand. He stared at Harry, who was staring back at him, looking just as shocked as he felt at what he'd just done.

Before that kiss, he hadn't even realized he _had_ any feelings for Harry.

"You..." Harry started.

Draco shook his head, fighting off thoughts and feelings, the pounding in his head, the memories forcing themselves to the forefront of his mind. He grimaced at harry and ran back towards his hideyhole. It was his safeplace. His father... The thoughts, the memories wouldn't go away. His father wasn't supposed to be able to reach him there! And yet, as he burrowed under blankets and random objects and tried to lose himself, his father's face seemed to be a permanent fixture, screaming at him, cursing him, punishing him in all sorts of ways that he could never reveal to anyone, telling him that bad things would happen if he continued on the way he was or if anyone found out about any of it.

And if his father ever found out that Draco had kissed _Harry?_

Draco threw the blankets off, suddenly feeling trapped, claustrophobic. His father couldn't physically be there. He never visited Hogwarts, not unless it had some sort of benefit for him. And he couldn't know what he'd just done. There was no way his father would ever find out that, for the first time, he'd kissed a boy... or the boy he just so happened to kiss.

He hid his face in his hands. His father's voice was still there. _Pathetic, good-for-nothing failure... worthless little son of a bitch. You'll never be good enough. You'll never do anything right. Worthless little—_

"What was _that?"_

The angry voice that was Harry's cut through. Draco froze. Now he knew, even more, the mistake he'd made kissing Harry Potter. His secret would be out. The entire school would know.

His father would kill him.

"I don't... I can't..." Draco stuttered, unable to create a full sentence, trying to fight off the full-blown panic attack that was rearing its ugly head.

"Well?" Harry snapped. Draco flinched away from him, from the tone, from the prospect that his entire world was collapsing around him. _How? How did everything go so wrong within a matter of seconds?_

He forced himself to look up at Harry, trying to keep what little composure he had left. "Don't tell anyone," he pleaded, feeling so weak, knowing he sounded like it too. He knew what was at stake, for himself, for his mother. Things were going to happen if word got out that the proper, perfect pureblood Malfoy family had a bad seed.

Harry's expression shifted toward confusion. "That's it?"

It occured to Draco that Harry might have expected him to threaten him, to keep quiet or bad things would happen. It was too late for that, and Draco couldn't bring himself to do it anyway. He looked away, hating his weakness, his inability to succeed in even attempting to make sure Harry would keep this little... mishap a secret. "I... I can't... Nobody knows..."

"Nobody knows what? That you go around kissing guys?"

"You're the only one I've ever kissed," Draco snapped. Oh, heaven forbid he dare to kiss _any _boy. No no no. Apparently it took getting incredibly angry and agitated to snap like that, to act on the impulse he'd felt more than once during his time at Hogwarts, the instinct that his father had taught him would only bring him pain and humiliation.

"Really?" Harry raised an eyebrow. "Then what was it for? Why did you do it?"

Draco tried to lie, to say it was just a stupid mistake, an impulse he would never follow again, but he couldn't get the words out. He shook his head and hid his face in his hands once more, so afraid. _This can't be happening. This is all just some horrible, demonic nightmare. Maybe I'm still asleep. Maybe this is some new, twisted fantasy my mind's created to give me a break from the normal nightmares..._

"Answer me, Malfoy!"

Draco felt something snap within him once again, completely fed up with everything, this stupid, screwed up dream that was possibly even worse than the nightmares about his father. "I'm _gay, _alright?" he shouted, ignoring Harry's look of shock. His darkest secret had just slipped out, and now that his life was completely ruined, he just let everything he'd hidden from everyone out. "I'm just a fruity son of a bitch, a disgusting little _fag_ that's going to get mugged and killed in some dark alley somewhere one day... I'll do nothing for the family bloodline, I'm a dead end, a freak, an abomination, and I won't be surprised if I'm taken off the damn family tree for it!"

He stopped to catch his breath, his entire body shaking. He didn't know if this was still some twisted nightmare, if it was real and_ Harry freakin' Potter _now knew one of the one things he'd sworn to himself he'd never reveal to anybody. If Harry was smart enough to connect the dots, he might have figured out another.

Draco started to wonder, though. Why Harry? He'd become angry enough with Crabbe and Goyle loads of times because of their stupidity, but he'd never even _thought _about kissing them...

"And why does it matter what they think?" Again, there was Harry's voice, cutting through his thoughts.

Draco looked up at him, then away, shaking his head. "They're everything I have."

"Find something else, then."

Draco snorted. "Like what?"

"Friends?" Harry shrugged. "School? Your family sucks, Malfoy."

Draco laughed bitterly. _You have no idea, Potter. _"D'you know what'll happen if the guys in my dorm find out? What everyone in the entire school will think if they find out I'm... that I'm a f...reak?" He hid his face again, unable to say the word his father used so often to describe him.

"I didn't say _tell _them... _I'm _not planning on doing that."

Draco looked up at him, utterly surprised. "You're not?"

Harry shrugged. "No"

"But this... This is perfect for you!" Draco stared at him, feeling more and more surprised by the second. "This is... This gives you everything you need to completely destroy me!"

"I'm not you," Harry said flatly. "I'm not looking to destroy lives... even yours."

Draco frowned, not sure what to think... He did know, however, that Harry was right in a way. "Slytherin," he muttered, looking away.

"That's just a House name. It doesn't have to be who you are."

He shook his head. "You know as well as I do that I belong there, just as much as you belong in Gryffindor," he muttered. There hadn't been a Malfoy in their history that hadn't been in Slytherin—all power-hungry, all Dark wizards... Even with all his... abnormalities, Draco could, at least, honestly say he was a normal Malfoy where Hogwarts was concerned.

Only he wasn't.

No Malfoy, no _Slytherin, _would have kissed a Gryffindor, a halfblood, _this _halfblood, sooner than cursing him, especially in a rage. But Draco did. Draco had. Draco had even _liked _it!

And part of him wanted to do it again.

"I really don't care, Malfoy," Harry said. "Just... help yourself."

"Help myself?" Draco blinked at him.

"Yeah. Quit worrying about everyone else," Harry said with a shrug, turning away. "Take care of yourself first and think about others' opinions later."

Draco hesitated. He knew he shouldn't do what he was about to... but suddenly, it happened. He wanted somebody to know... and since Harry knew everything else, this wasn't much more.

Alright, it was much more.

"It was my father," he said quickly, before Harry could get too far away.

"What?" Harry turned to look at him again, blinking in confusion.

"My father." Draco's voice shook a little. "He... The bruises are his fault."

"He _beat _you?" Once more, Harry looked nothing short of shock.

Draco nodded, looking away.

"And you haven't _told _anyone?"

"I can't," Draco muttered. "He told me bad things would happen if I told anyone."

"He can't touch you here, Malf—Draco," Harry said. Draco looked up at hearing him use his first name, hearing the convern in the other boy's voice.

"I'm safe, but my mother isn't," Draco said softly.

"He hits her too?"

"Sometimes. When she gets in the way."

Harry stared at him for a moment. "How... Why..." He sighed and shook his head. "Draco, someone needs to know. An adult. At least tell someone you trust. This—your father's insane!"

"He has anger issues," Draco muttered with a shrug, hating himself for his weakness, for trying to defend his father.

"... Why are you defending him?"

"I... don't know. Habit."

"... What?"

Draco shrugged. "It's what we say all the time. He's got anger issues. He's stressed. He's got a lot on his plate being one of the Dark Lord's highest advisors. He's had too much firewhiskey..." Draco muttered the last part, snorting. The firewhiskey. When the bottle was out, it meant danger for everyone. "And it's not like it matters. Anyone who would care is probably already paid off, or they're not important enough to do anything about it... He's got a lot of influence in the wizarding world, Harry. There's no way around it."

Harry eyed him, then sighed. "Well, at least... think about it. Think about telling someone. Alright?"

Draco sighed, but nodded in agreement. "... Thank you," he muttered quietly.

"No problem," Harry said with a shrug, watching him for a moment—just long enough for Draco to realize just how _green _Harry's eyes were, before he walked away.

Draco sighed, hiding his face in his hands once more.

Out of _all _the boys he could have pined after... _Harry Potter _was the first one he'd ever truly wanted.

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><p><strong>Whee! <strong>

**So, I've got a question for my little followers out there. Would you rather see a chapter with a part of Draco's past, with his father, or should I just continue along where I am? **

**Anyway, until next time!**


	4. 3: Surprise!

**A/N: Draco's... incidents with his father before this point will be posted in a separate story once this is done. Also, for those of you that have me on Author Alert, I may or may not be writing this story and another (involving Transformers) as well. I haven't decided yet whether I'll completely finish TSTH off before I start another...**

**(If those damn robots have anything to say about it, I have no choice in the matter. .)**

**Anyway, enjoy the chapter! Yay for quick uploading?**

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><p>Harry wandered away from Draco, his mind staying back there though. For just a moment he questioned the Slytherin's credibility... It could have been a lie, something to get sympathy, to make Harry drop his guard. But the bruises had been there—Harry saw them himself. And why would Draco <em>lie<em> about something so serious? Why would he say his father was abusing him if it wasn't true? He wasn't sure if any of it even made sense.

Especially the part where Draco had kissed him.

Harry settled down in a chair that didn't look like it would try to attack him, closing his eyes with a sigh. That kiss... Why did his mind keep going back to kiss? And why would Draco want to kiss him anyway? There was the whole "Malfoy's _gay" _thing, but there had never been any indication at all that Draco had been interested him in any way... Well, there _had _been that time right at the beginning where Draco had wanted to be his friend...

But they'd been kids then. Draco hadn't been thinking about...

Harry sighed. None of it was fitting together. They hated each other... And yet, he found himself wondering why he had the feeling there was something more. That it wasn't just hatred, wasn't just the normal Gryffindor-Slytherin tension between them.

He had no idea why the kiss was still in the forefront of his mind. He forced it away when he started thinking about it more in-depth, the feeling of it, Draco's lips against his, angry and yet almost desperate...

He stopped himself just before he licked his lips to see if the taste was still there. He wasn't gay. He'd never felt any attraction towards any guy—except Cedric, of course, but he hadn't really understood it until it was too late... too late to really wonder what might have happened, who he'd really been more jealous of, Cedric or Cho...

So many unanswered questions...

His vision shifted under his eyelids, brightened. He found himself in the Graveyard where he had seen Voldemort come back. A shudder ran down his spine as he looked around, feeling a twinge in his arm where Wormtail had cut him.

"Harry."

Harry froze at hearing the voice of Cedric Diggory.

"Cedric?" Harry turned to look at him, knowing this was a dream now. Cedric was dead. He knew he was dead.

"Harry, I think the Cup was a Portkey," Cedric said, slowly moving forward. "Maybe this is part of the Third Task."

"Cedric, don't," Harry said quickly, moving to pick up the Triwizard Cup. "We have to go back. It's a trap."

"Harry," Cedric said with a laugh. "You're sounding so paranoid! This has to be part of the Tournament. Professor Moody set the Cup, he knew where it was going!"

_Exactly, _Harry thought. "Cedric, please, don't go any fa—" He cut off and froze when he saw the figure.

Cedric was oblivious, looking the other way, wand halfway up. "Come on, Harry. We agreed we'd both bring the Cup home to Hogwarts."

"Kill the spare."

"Cedric!"

His eyes flew open and he nearly tumbled out of the chair he was curled up in, breathing hard, blinking around the blurry area while he tried to figure out where he was. The blur wasn't going away... He felt his face for his glasses and realized they weren't there. He searched around for them, not sure where they had gotten to, frowning.

Chair. Not a Gryffindor Common Room chair...

Room of Requirement.

Draco.

Right.

He felt something being pressed into his hands... glasses. His glasses. He squinted up at... Draco. Of course it was Draco. He sighed and slipped his glasses on with a muttered "thanks", wondering if Draco was still there because—

"Umbridge is outside," Draco said quietly. "We'll be here for a while."

Well, there was the answer to that question.

"Yeah... I know," he said with a nod, watching Draco move away once more, hearing the other boy sigh. Harry got up to stretch out his legs and walk, looking around. The room was definitely shrinking, not nearly as big as it had been when he'd entered. To keep his mind off the nightmare—and Draco—he started mapping out the twists and turns, figuring out things that would work as landmarks so he would know how to get out.

When he got to the door again, and saw that Umbridge was still there, he sighed. "Come on..." he muttered. "Go away already..."

He walked away, wandering towards where he knew Draco was, sighing to himself. Might as well see if they could enjoy each other's company... to a point. He blinked when he walked in and saw Draco with a piece of parchment and a quill, the tip scritch-scratching away. "What are you doing?"

Draco gave a slight start, but didn't look up. "Drawing," the boy said absently as Harry watched him finish off the outline of what was, unmistakably, a dragon.

"I didn't know you could draw."

Draco shrugged. "Not something anyone knows, really."

_That's the case about a lot of things with you, isn't it? _Harry thought "So... You come in here a lot then?" he asked, trying to make conversation. "Since you have this... cave... thing."

"I only found it this year." Draco shrugged. "But... yeah."

"It's... nice." Harry nodded, part of his mind now trying to figure out why he was trying to be nice. This was Draco Malfoy, the boy who seemed to have a life mission of making his life as much of a living hell as possible.

Draco chuckled. "You do realize you sound quite awkward, don't you?" he said, the tone of his voice strangely teasing, not the usual arrogant sneer that would have happened when making a slight at Harry's social skills.

"Can't say we've ever really talked before," Harry pointed out. "Not like this."

Draco nodded, looking thoughtful. "True."

Harry nodded in return, looking around and frowning. "Is it just me, or is the room smaller?"

Draco frowned as well, looking up. "It's not just you. I could hear you when you were over by the door... Usually the room's big enough were everything sounds mute until you're standing right by whatever's making the noise."

"Great." Harry sighed, crossing his arms. "Why's it doing that? I thought the room gave us what we wanted."

"... Not sure."

Harry looked around warily, making sure the room wasn't shrinking anymore while they were talking about it.

"Gives you that paranoid feeling, doesn't it?" Draco asked absently. "Maybe it's trying to tell us something."

"... Like what?" Harry blinked at him.

"Well, if the room's smaller, maybe on the outside the door's smaller so Umbridge can't get in... Or it could be something else entirely." He shrugged, Harry watching as he finished off the scales and started putting more detail in the eyes and snout of his dragon.

Harry paused, pushing the first thought that came to his mind out at that last part. The room didn't work that way... did it? "Maybe. Guess we'll just have to wait and see," he murmured, in response to both Harry and his own thoughts.

"Mhmm," Draco hummed absently, nibbling on the tip of the feather of his quill, frowning thoughtfully at his sketch. Harry could see those lines again, the ones in his face, and felt something... He pushed the thoughts away again.

"Mind if I sit?"

"Go ahead." Draco nodded, looking away from the drawing long enough to pull something out of the pile around him—a pillow.

Harry blinked at him while he set it down. "Thanks," he said with a nod while he settled down on the pillow, eyeing Draco thoughtfully as he tried to figure him out. He tilted his head

when he saw a folded up piece of parchment sitting next to Draco, glancing up at the other boy before reaching over to pick it up. When Draco didn't react, he slowly unfolded it, staring at what it was.

It was a portrait. A portait... of him. There was special detail in the hair and eyes, and it almost looked like a photograph... Harry couldn't deny that it was actually really good, and after a moment of thought and glancing over at Draco's dragon, he wasn't sure that it surprised him.

He tensed as Draco looked over, the other boy freezing as well, a blush coloring his pale cheeks. "I... that..."

Harry looked away, letting his bangs fall over his eyes to hide them, quietly passing the parchment over. "Saw it on the ground."

There was silence before Harry heard Draco quietly fold the parchment and slip it into his pocket. Harry hesitated. "... You're good."

"Thanks," Draco said quietly.

Harry nodded, quiet once more as he looked around. The room was definitely messing with them. Not only was it smaller—barely the size of a classroom—but it was darker too. The only real light seemed to be emitting from their little cave.

Draco snorted something under his breath that Harry didn't catch. The room dimmed more and Draco cursed. "This is ridiculous," he said in a louder tone, setting his parchment and quill aside, standing up. "I'm going to see if Umbridge is gone yet."

"Alright," Harry said with a shrug, settling back as he watched Draco walk off. Umbridge would probably still be there. Might as well get comfortable.

Draco came back soon enough, looking irritated. "This room hates us. I wouldn't be surprised if it was projecting an image of her to keep us in here... but I'm not taking the chance."

Harry frowned, wondering what was putting Draco on edge. "Well... We'll check again in a few minutes."

Draco glanced at him, then away again, sitting back down. "Alright."

Harry nodded, resting his head back with a sigh.

"... I'm sorry," Draco muttered after a moment of silence.

Harry paused, looking at him. What reason did he have to apologize? "For?"

"Kissing you before," Draco muttered. "It was a stupid move."

Harry frowned, not sure what to say. He was actually apologizing? "S'alright," he said with a shrug, not sure how else to respond. He saw Draco move out of the corner of his eye, laying down. Harry kept his eyes on the ceiling of the cave for a moment before he looked over, frowning in thought. It seemed as though Draco had drifted off, but what worried Harry once more was the lines. He looked older than he should have, much more vulnerable than Harry had ever seen him.

He reached out for Draco when he saw something change in his face, the other boy seeming to have a nightmare, twitching in his sleep, struggling with some unseen force. "Hey... Draco, it's okay." Draco's eyes opened instantly and Harry watched him in concern, pulling his hand away when the other boy looked at him. "Just a dream..."

Draco nodded, rubbing his eyes. "Used to it," he muttered.

"It's about your dad?"

"... Yeah," Draco responded, sounding reluctant to admit it.

"You can go to the nurse, you know. Ask for a sleeping potion."

"Too many questions."

"No." Harry shook his head. "Tell Madame Pomfrey it's the stress from studying for your OWLs."

"... I suppose it's possible..." Draco sighed.

"I've done it," Harry confessed.

"For yours?"

So he had heard. "Yeah."

"... Maybe I'll try it." Draco shrugged.

"Just... if she asks any questions, don't mention the nightmare. Makes it worse."

Draco nodded. "Alright."

Harry nodded, letting the conversation drift off into a somewhat more comfortable silence than before.

The silence was broken with a call of surprise that he recognized as his own, something in the room shifting as he was suddenly thrown across the cave, landing front-first right on top of Draco.


End file.
